


drifting

by harpers_mirror (SapphireBryony)



Series: Sing Me to Sleep [4]
Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, and then just angst, can be read gen or shippy depending on your position on Minffel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 14:43:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7578145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireBryony/pseuds/harpers_mirror
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>or, Three Times Renée Minkowski Woke Up Doug Eiffel (and One Time She Didn't)</p>
            </blockquote>





	drifting

**Author's Note:**

> Initially inspired by [this post on tumblr](http://citadelofswords.tumblr.com/post/146608934957/so-sleeping-in-0g-is-probably-a-whole-big-to-do) about how Eiffel's various traumas might impact his sleep.
> 
> Thanks eternally to [station_oracle]() for the wonderfully thorough beta.

**[1]**

Renée Minkowski blew out a frustrated breath and ran a hand through her hair. She cast an annoyed eye over her newly-appointed and currently unconscious communications officer who was floating across her path. He was blocking the hall to the crew quarters, and she briefly considered leaving him there until he got sucked into one of the air intakes at the end of the corridor.

As satisfying as such a solution might be, it would probably create ever more paperwork and bureaucratic nonsense for her to deal with. She headed for the aft deck storage pods, remembering a certain oddball item stored there. 

_BWWEEEAAAAHHH!_

Maybe the folks at Command had known what they were doing when they stocked this place after all. She pocketed the miniature air horn and, resolving to hide it somewhere Eiffel would never find it, brushed past the startled, shouting man drifting up near the ceiling and headed to bed.

* * *

**[2]**

After the fear and exertion of the day they'd all just barely survived, there was nothing more Renée wanted to do than crash in her bunk and sleep for at least eight hours. Hilbert had ordered Eiffel to rest in the wake of his near-drowning and in return, Minkowski had given the doctor and herself the next day off too - they all needed time to recharge. 

Passing the comms room, she glanced inside expecting to find it empty. Instead, she found the curled up form of Officer Douglas Eiffel, bundled into a sleeping bag and wedged under the main workspace. 

Renée hesitated for a moment in the open hatch, unsure of whether or not to leave him be. On one hand, she’d certainly found him sleeping in stranger places before. On the other, after the day he’d had... 

Before she could change her mind, she pushed her way into the room and floated over to him. Working her way to his level, Minkowski rested a tentative hand on his shoulder and shook him gently. 

“Eiffel?” She kept her voice low, not wanting to startle him. “Eiffel?” 

Quiet or not, he awoke with a gasp, eyes wide and frantic as he thrashed around in the confines of his sleeping bag. 

Cursing her decision to bother him, Renée caught his shoulders and held him still. 

“Whoa, Eiffel, it’s okay, you’re okay, it’s just me. Calm down.” 

At her words he stilled, eyes focused on hers. 

“C-commander? Where...what...” He tried to compose himself and banged his head on the closest comms panel. “Ow! What the hell - oh.” Doug’s cheeks went faintly red. “I, uh...” 

Minkowski let go of him and leaned away a bit, feeling intrusive and awkward. Doug struggled to sit up - no easy feat in a sleeping bag in zero gravity - and backed up until he hit the wall, resting a steadying hand on the underside of the panel above his head. 

Looking away from her, he said, “I can, uh, go somewhere else if I’m in the way. Or my quarters. Sorry, I’ll - sorry.” And the thrashing began again as he tried to extricate himself. 

Renée backed up, holding up her hands in what she hoped was a placating fashion. “Easy, Eiffel. It’s okay. You can sleep under your desk if you want. For whatever reason you want. Hoping to get some extra work done?” Her joke fell flat and heavy between them. 

Eiffel stopped struggling and leaned back with a sigh. “Something like that, Commander. I...” He sighed again. “Too much space to float around in.” He burrowed into his makeshift bed once more, refusing to meet her gaze. “Hera will turn the light out when you leave, Commander.” 

Minkowski knew a dismissal when she heard one. “Will do, Eiffel.” Heading for the exit, she paused. “Good night, Doug. Sorry to wake you.” Closing the hatch quietly behind her, she drifted towards her quarters with a heavy heart.

* * *

**[3]**

“Eiffel!” She shook his shoulder frantically. “Eiffel, wake up!” 

He was up in an instant, reddened eyes focusing on her with bleary concern. 

“Commander? What's wrong? I didn't hear an alarm go -” 

“I know, nothing’s gone off for over four hours, I just checked!” 

Clearly still trying to comprehend what was going on around him, Eiffel looked around in confusion. “So... Sorry, sir, I’m still lost. What's going horribly wrong?” 

“Nothing!” she shouted, impatient and frustrated. “Nothing is going horribly wrong, which is the first time in four solid days that nothing has gone horribly wrong! Which means something must be going horribly wrong that we just don't know about yet!” 

Doug scrubbed his hands over his face. “Let me get this straight. You woke up to find nothing exploding, on fire, or making horrible loud noises for the first time in _four days_ , and instead of getting some much-needed sleep, you woke me up to shout about literally nothing? You’re...” he seemed to search for words as he stared at her and she sighed. 

“Completely ridiculous?” she supplied, voice tired and resigned and sad. 

Eiffel cracked a weary smile. “Well yeah, that too. But I was going to say ‘incredible.’” 

Minkowski looked away, rubbing a hand on the back of her neck in embarrassment. Still rattled from waking up in the cavernous silence of the Hera-less Hephaestus - the bizarre absence of sound more frightening than any ten alarms put together - she was now thrown for another loop by this newly-emerged, helpful and caring Doug Eiffel. Though she’d somewhat softened toward him since the days of his toothpaste mutinies, not even a week ago she would have still described him in fairly unflattering terms. 

But now, after discovering that he was the only ally she had, the only person she could trust... Renée glanced over at him through the curls of stray hair that had loosed themselves from her ponytail. 

“Thanks, Eiffel. I...” She sighed, running a weary hand down the side of her face. “I feel like I’m just constantly on edge, waiting for the next shoe to drop. And everything keeps falling apart and I don’t know how to keep it together. I don’t know how to keep _anything_ together anymore, it seems.” 

Eiffel’s eyes flicked to one of Hera’s cameras mounted nearby, and a flash of something dark crossed his features. But then it was gone and his focus was entirely back on her. 

“If it makes you feel any better, Commander? You’re holding _me_ together. No idea whether that counts for much but...” He shrugged. “I appreciate it. And you don’t have to try to hold everything together by yourself. I’m still here, for whatever that’s worth.” 

Not knowing what to say, Minkowski reached out and drew her hand down the side of his arm until she caught his hand, intertwining their fingers. 

“It’s worth a lot, Eiffel.” 

They floated together, holding hands in the dimly-lit room for a long, silent moment. The breath caught in Renée’s throat as she met Eiffel’s gaze. His tired eyes were more serious and focused than she had ever seen them and she hung there, an odd sense of anticipation building in the air between them. 

Doug yawned and the moment broke, the tension dissipating as thoroughly as if it had been vented into space. Embarrassed, she dropped his hand and turned to go. 

“Sorry, Eiffel. Sorry about waking you. Go back to sleep. I’ll let you know if anything goes wrong.” 

“I’m sure I’ll hear the alarms,” he said dryly, yawning again. “See ya, Commander.” 

She was nearly out the hatch when he spoke again, making her pause. “If you want...uh. Never mind.” 

Sighing, Minkowski turned back to face her uncomfortable-looking communications officer. “Eiffel, I’m tired. I’d like to get some sleep before the next emergency, and - ” 

“If... If you... _ifyouwannasleepinherethat’sokay.”_ The words came in a mumbled rush and it took her sleep-deprived brain a moment to parse it all out - a moment wherein he turned so red she was mildly worried he might combust. 

“Eiffel, I...” 

“Oh god, forget I said anything,” he groaned, dropping his face into his hands. “I’m sorry, I’ll just...go...somewhere else.” He pushed off from the wall, trying to hurtle out of the open hatch - only to get pulled up short a moment later by his tether with a small, distressed squeak. 

And for the second time since everything had fallen apart, Renee Minkowski found herself doubled over in helpless laughter courtesy of Doug Eiffel. 

* * *

**[1]**

“Goodnight!” Jacobi’s cheerful whistling echoed off the walls around her as he left. In the wake of his departure, Minkowski was seized with the urge to follow him and punch him right in his stupid, smug, smirking face. 

She settled for punching the wall, only to regret her decision an instant later as pain shot through her hand. Cradling her bleeding fist to her chest, Renee leaned back against the bulkhead and closed her eyes. As the wound throbbed, she drew in a slow breath, waiting for the pain to pass and the tears to stop pricking at her eyelids. 

She would not cry. Not for the pain in her hand, and not for the deeper, emotional hurt of the night’s revelations. Renee knew those files had not ended up in her hands by chance, they’d been delivered to her for exactly this reason: to hurt her, to unsettle her, to fracture her team. And she would _not_ give Kepler the satisfaction of showing that it hurt, she _wouldn’t._

Pushing carefully off the wall, Minkowski headed for the crew quarters and the sanctuary of her room. At least she could be alone with her thoughts for a few hours. Passing Eiffel’s door, she paused. 

Did she really want to be alone? Would she feel more settled, given time to think? Or would her tangled and scattered thoughts only run away with her, leaving her feeling even worse? 

Should she just go talk to him? No matter how horrible his past misdeeds, knowing the details had to be better than worrying over a few sketchy facts, right? 

Minkowski reached out her uninjured hand, tracing a finger lightly over the handle. It would be so easy - just tell him what she’d discovered and wait for the explanation of how it all had been a wacky misunderstanding, or something done out of good and noble intentions that went wrong. Rescuing a child from an abusive parent. Taking the fall for someone else’s crime. Something typically Eiffelian, well-meaning but disastrously mishandled. 

But what if... 

She drew her hand away from the door as though it had burned her. 

What if it really was something bad? Done for money? Or on drugs? Or because, deep down, Douglas Eiffel wasn’t the man she’d thought he was? 

What if she’d never really known him at all? 

She pushed off from the wall and headed resolutely to her own quarters. Having already made one rash decision with painful consequences tonight, Minkowski saw no sense in making another.


End file.
